


Unexpected

by vix_spes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossdressing, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Secret Snarry Swap 2016, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-03 19:42:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8727748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: Caught out after curfew by Snape, Harry had a fairly good idea of what he thought was in store for his detention. Nothing could have been further from the truth.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to the mods, as always. Also, thanks to I for the beta.
> 
> Written for Prompt #35 from Eriador117: 8th year, someone has dared Harry to wear a girl's uniform and walk through the school after curfew without his invisibility cloak. Snape catches him, but the detention wasn't anything like Harry expected. Who knew Snape had a fondness for boys in skirts?

Most of the time, Harry thought that it was a great idea that the returning eighth year students shared their own down dorms and common room, that they were separated from the rest of the houses. Okay, so there was still some tension and a whole load of weirdness over living in the same space as Draco Malfoy and he hadn’t even known that August Moon existed but, most of the time, it worked. Other times – like now – he thought it was the worst thing in the world. 

It had been bad enough with just the boys in his year in Gryffindor Tower when they got bored and decided to play dares. Now, with the addition of Draco’s wicked streak and a bottled of contraband Old Ogden’s smuggled in from Seamus, it was downright dangerous and precisely how Harry had found himself in his current situation.

It had started out innocently enough with small dares – nothing too extreme – but then the bottle of Firewhiskey had started to get emptier and the ever-present tension between Ron and Draco had spilled over. As usual, Harry had got caught in the cross-fire and ended up with the most ridiculous dare that anyone had come up with so far; he had to walk through the school after curfew. That was hardly the end of the world – he’d lost count of the number of times that he’d done that since he started at Hogwarts – but the fact that he was having to do it in a girl’s uniform?

He’d burst out laughing the second that Draco finished speaking, only to trail off when he realised that, while he wasn’t the only one laughing, the others were laughing at his expense. In desperation, Harry looked at the rest of the group. August barely spoke to them, so he was no good, while Draco was clearly out. Hannah didn’t look as though she objected too much and Neville was so busy staring at her, he was clearly oblivious to what was going on. Ignoring Ron and Dean, who were all but rolling on the floor in paroxysms of laughter, Harry turned a pleading gaze on Hermione, hoping for some leniency. Instead, he saw her shake her head and exchange a glance with Padma that he couldn’t quite decipher before uttering the words that filled him with dread (even more so than the girl’s uniform).

“And you’re not allowed to take your invisibility cloak.”

“I _knew_ you had an invisibility cloak, Potter, I knew it!”

“ _Hermione!_ ” Harry couldn’t help but whine; he had been hoping to get away with that.

“No, Harry. Using your invisibility cloak defeats the purpose of the dare. Now, go and get a uniform so that we can transfigure it.”

Harry huffed and tried to stall but a sharp glance from Hermione told him that he wasn’t going to be able to avoid doing the dare, so he headed for his dorm with no little reluctance. When he returned, Hermione and Padma were huddled together, clearly discussing the spells that they were going to use and, the instant they saw him, snatched the uniform out of his hands, practically cackling with glee.

Twenty minutes later, he stood fidgeting as Hermione fussed with his new uniform and conferred with Padma, who was casting spells that Harry had never even heard of. He had never felt so uncomfortable or so exposed in his life. They had left his shirt and jumper alone for the most part, simply making them a little more tailored, and adjusted his shoes so that they looked a little more like those Hermione wore. It was the skirt that had him squirming in discomfort. It barely seemed to cover anything, coming to a stop about half-way down his thighs and leaving an awful lot of bare skin between the hem of the skirt and the top of his now knee-high socks. Harry didn’t think that he’d been this aware of his knobbly knees since he’d been in primary school. Still, at least they were letting him wear his robes over the top as well.

Ron and Dean, who had just about regained their composure, were in hysterics again, Draco had that damned superior Malfoy smirk on his face, Neville was chuckling to himself and even August was looking amused. He half-listened as Draco outlined the route that he was to take, already planning on which short-cuts he could take and where he could safely hide until enough time had passed and it was safe to return. Of course, that was when Hermione scuppered his plans. Again.

“And don’t even think of cheating, Harry. We’ll be watching.”

Harry’s head shot up in shock. It was one thing for Hermione to mention his invisibility cloak but the Marauder’s Map? That was out of bounds. He relaxed fractionally as Hermione shook her head discreetly.

“Padma’s found a charm that tracks you and I’ve modified it slightly. We’ll know whereabouts you are all the time and we’ll know if you stop to hide. Go on, then. The quicker you leave, the quicker you’ll get back.”

Harry had just reached the portrait when he felt a tingle of magic followed by the disappearance of his boxers and the appearance of something far more form-fitting and far skimpier. Turning around in horror, he saw that the only person holding their wand was an unexpected Hannah.

“The boxers were ruining the line of your skirt.”

“Try not to get caught, Potter.”

There was a strange look on Draco’s face that Harry couldn’t quite decipher. It was as though Draco wanted Harry to get caught but it wasn’t malicious; it was something else entirely but what, Harry couldn’t determine.

(~*~)

Thirty minutes later, Harry was proving as good as his word and had yet to be caught. There had been a couple of close calls – once by the Ravenclaw prefect near the Astronomy Tower and then Filch near the Room of Requirement – but Harry was now on the home stretch. He just had to make it through the dungeons and then back up to the common room, where he was going to proceed to kill all his friends starting with Padma and Hermione; he didn’t know what charm they had used but, no matter what he did, he simply couldn’t get his robes to close.

When he finally reached the dungeons, Harry paused and took a deep breath. The urge to sod the dare and just make for the safety of the common rom was almost overwhelming. This was the riskiest part of the dare because, down here, there was the danger of running into Snape. Snape, who still puzzled Harry no end simply by existing.

They had come to a sort of détente during the war, a grudging acceptance of each other. Harry accepted that Snape had hated Harry’s father and Sirius and loathed him – and, in all likelihood, always would – but that Snape had the knowledge and abilities that Harry needed to win the war. Snape had accepted (just about) that Harry wasn’t his father and that they weren’t going to defeat Voldemort without Harry. It was by no means a miracle cure and they still sniped at each other on a regular basis but it was the best it had ever been.

Well, that wasn’t the complete truth.

The truth was that the relationship between them was far too complicated to put a label on it. They’d spent an inordinate amount of time in each other’s presence, lived in each other’s heads and seen both the best and the worst of each other. While Harry couldn’t honestly say that Snape was a good man and he definitely wouldn’t describe him as attractive, there was something undeniably magnetic about the man. Indeed, Harry had spent more than a few occasions imagining what Snape would be like as a lover, something that - whilst horrified that it had happened - he had put them down to a mix of teenage horniness and desperation. Now, he wasn’t quite so sure.

Even so, Harry had no desire for Snape to catch him in his current attire. He could just imagine the sneering comments in store for him, the undoubted public humiliation, for there was surely no way that Snape would keep his discovery private. Yet, there was a small part of Harry that couldn’t help but be curious as to whether Snape’s reaction would be what Harry imagined. By this point, Harry was almost clear of the dungeons, only a few steps left to go. He had one foot on the steps when that familiar voice flowed over him.

“Mr Potter, why am I not surprised that it’s you sneaking around after curfew.”

Harry felt a shiver travel down his spine at the sound of Snape’s voice, ever as he refused to turn around. “What can I say, Professor, old habits die hard.”

“Yet manners still appear to have escaped you. Turn around, Mr Potter.”

“Funny you should ask that, Professor…”

“It wasn’t a request, Potter; it was an order. Turn around.”

Harry did so reluctantly, keeping his eyes firmly fixed in the middle of Snape’s chest, not really wanting to see the look on the man’s face. However, when he heard a slow intake of breath, he couldn’t help but raise his eyes.

When he did so, he didn’t meet Snape’s eyes. Instead, Snape’s gaze seemed to be glued to where Harry’s robes gaped open revealing the girls uniform that he was wearing. Harry felt the urge to squirm almost overwhelmingly, but resisted, not wanting Snape to see that he was uncomfortable. Even so, it was almost impossible not to fidget, given how Snape’s eyes were boring into him.

“Well, well, well. This is an interesting turn of events. Detention, Mr Potter. Tomorrow evening, 8pm. My office.”

“Professor…” Only now did Harry meet Snape’s eyes and there was a glint to them that Harry couldn’t quite decipher.

“Detention, Potter. Come in your current attire.”

Harry blinked. He definitely hadn’t been expecting that and he was starting to understand the look in Snape’s eyes a bit better now. He found that, given their history, he didn’t object to it as much as he thought he would. “Yes, Professor.”

“Good. I suggest that you return to your common room now and I will see you tomorrow evening.”

(~*~)

When the next day came around, Harry was constantly on edge and unable to concentrate. He had absolutely no idea what lay in store for him that evening. None of them had received a detention since they had returned for their eighth year; it was almost as though there was some sort of agreement amongst the teachers to let things slide for them. Was it going to be a typical Snape detention where he was going to be cleaning cauldrons or preparing ingredients? But if that was all it was going to be, then why did Snape want him to wear that bloody girl’s uniform?

Part of him considered not turning up but Hermione would never let him get away with that. They had all been waiting for him in the common room when he returned, having seen that he had had a run in with Snape thanks to Padma and Hermione’s charm and wanting to know what had happened. Harry had informed them that he had been given a detention but had glossed over the details although, judging from the suspicious looks, Hermione and Draco knew that he wasn’t telling them everything.

That gave him pause for thought. Everyone knew that he had detention but they didn’t know about Snape’s other little stipulation. He could just turn up in his usual school uniform and deal with whatever the consequences were that Snape dreamt up. But then the man himself had to scupper Harry’s plans, making sure to sweep past the table where the eighth years sat as he exited the Great Hall.

“I shall expect you for your detention at 8pm, Potter. Don’t forget, your attire from yesterday evening shall suffice.”

As Snape continued on his way and the speculative eyes of his so-called friends turned to him, Harry just barely resisted the urge to bang his head against the table in the hopes of knocking himself out.

(~*~)

It was a very uncomfortable Harry who found himself standing outside Snape’s office door at two minutes to eight. As he was sure had been Snape’s intention, his actions meant that Harry was once more wearing the girl’s uniform underneath his robes. Thankfully, as there would still be other students around, Hermione and Padma had conceded and let Harry wear his own robes so he could wrap them around himself. Just as he had the previous evening, Draco had had that same funny little smirk playing on his lips, calling out “have fun!” as Harry had slipped out of the portrait hole. Just as the clock chimed the hour and Harry raised his hand to knock on the door, it swung open to reveal Snape looming in the door.

“Mr Potter. You’re on time, will wonders never cease.”

Harry hesitated, filled with trepidation as to what awaited him. When he waited fractionally too long, he was directed inside with an imperious gesture.

“Well, Mr Potter? I don’t have all evening.”

Taking a deep breath, Harry slipped past Snape and into the oh-so-familiar office. Once inside, he hovered awkwardly, his trepidation only increasing as he heard Snape close and then ward the door behind him. When he turned, he found Snape no more than a few inches away, making Harry start with fright.

“Professor!” As he jumped, Harry let his grasp on his robes slip, causing them to gape open. As he fumbled to hold them closed again, he was stopped by Snape’s voice.

“Leave it. Imagine my surprise when, walking through the dungeons after curfew, I spot a student out of bounds. Imagine my lack of surprise when said student turned out to be you. However, I will readily admit that your attire came as something of intrigue. Tell me, Mr Potter, is this a habit of yours? This predilection for dressing in girl’s clothing?”

Harry couldn’t answer. He felt as though his head was spinning and absently wondered if Snape was brewing something that was giving off noxious fumes. Then again, in all likelihood it wasn’t a potion, but Snape himself. He was so close that Harry could feel the warmth of his body and smell the obscure mix of scents that clung to his robes. Then there was the intensity of Snape’s gaze, all of his focus narrowed in on Harry. When you included Snape’s voice, which seemed to be deeper somehow, it was a heady combination and Harry was finding it hard to concentrate.

“Potter?”

“Huh?”

“Eloquent as ever. I asked if wearing women’s clothing was a common indulgence for you?”

Harry blinked furiously, trying to rid his head of the woolly feeling that seemed to have taken over. “No. NO! I mean, it was a, umm, it was a dare. From Draco.”

“Interesting. I wonder if my godson knows of this particular peccadillo of mine or if it’s simple coincidence.”

“What?”

“Honestly, Potter, have you learned any manners as a student at all? I have a, certain fondness, shall we say, for young men dressed as you are now. Yes, there’s just something about it which appeals to me.”

If he was being totally honest, Harry wasn’t entirely sure as to what Snape was saying: the actual words, that is; he’d managed to grasp that Snape got turned on by boys wearing skirts and, weirdly enough, Harry wasn’t feeling overwhelmed with the urge to run in the opposite direction.

Quite the opposite in fact.

He found himself wanting more, although what he wanted more of, he wasn’t quite sure. Snape’s voice seemed to have taken on a more sinuous quality than usual and one of his hands was ghosting up and down Harry’s side. The whole effect was proving to be rather hypnotic and Harry found himself involuntarily swaying in towards Snape. Snape did nothing except encourage it, the hand on Harry’s side becoming firmer as he leant in closer until he was flush up against Snape’s chest. 

Eyes at half-mast, Harry cast a glance up towards Snape, holding Snape’s gaze for less than half a minute before Snape’s lips were on his. This was a kiss unlike any other that Harry had had. All he remembered of the kiss with Cho was that it was a bit wet, although he had shared a few far more satisfactory kisses with Ginny since then. This was something entirely different. Snape demanded, he took, he possessed. All Harry could do was hang on and reciprocate as best as he could while Snape all but devoured him.

Harry’s head dropped forwards onto Snape’s shoulder as Snape pulled back to lean back against his desk, shifting his weight and positioning so that one of Harry’s legs was pressed in between Snape’s, meaning that he was all but straddling one of Snape’s legs. Harry muffled his moan in Snape’s chest as his erection came into contact with Snape’s thigh, feeling Snape’s fingers slip into his robes and dig into his hips, just about able to feel Snape’s erection pressed against his own thigh. There was a bit of initial fumbling but the two managed to set up a rhythm, panting into each other’s necks as they frotted against each other. The friction was delicious but it wasn’t quite enough for Harry, not with the layers of robes in between them. 

But then Snape was reaching between them, under Harry’s skirt, and taking his cock in a calloused hand. It was the first time that Harry had been touched there by someone other than himself and it was almost overwhelming. It didn’t take more than a few strokes before Harry was coming with a yell, spurting his release over the underside of Harry’s skirt and Snape’s hand.

Harry slumped against Snape, not quite able to rouse himself after his orgasm, somewhat amazed that Snape hadn’t shoved him away already, amazed that he hadn’t run away of his own volition. Snape, _Snape_ , had just brought him to climax. He had no idea if Snape had come as well but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. He managed to force himself to focus as Snape spoke, although he remained leaning flush against Snape.

“I trust that I won’t be finding you out after curfew again, Mr Potter. If I do, further detentions will prove necessary.”

Heart still racing and trying to catch his breath, not to mention attempting to get his thought processes working coherently again, Harry just about managed to reply. “No promises, Professor. Old habits die hard.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment here or at [Livejournal](http://snape-potter.livejournal.com/3671385.html), [Insanejournal](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snape_potter/1616625.html), or [Dreamwidth](http://snape-potter.dreamwidth.org/918969.html).


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